Big thanks to Reaby for her help with this chapter.

Warnings for racist discussions and implications.

This chapter would have been up a few days ago, except I got kicked by a horse. In the hand. It's, uh...put a damper on my writing hahah... Admittedly, most of the story is written, but I'm kinda slow on the updates. The reason is simple: I'm disappointed in the response I'm getting on this story. At the risk of sounding whiny, I will update faster if you comment. It's as simple as that.

Thank you to those of you who do. Writing is a lot of work, and I appreciate the feedback more than I can say.

Kaladin stepped around two uniformed officers, ducking into Adolin's room. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn't seen any earlier, given the nature of the young policeman's stay.

One of the men glanced at him, but after a moment they returned to their whispered conversation, leaving Kaladin to his work. He went about his business, back to them to give them their privacy. He could not turn off his ears, however.

"You're kidding me. You have got to be fucking kidding me," Adolin was saying, sounding tense.

"It's the official stance taken by the government and media—"

"No shit," Adolin's voice replied. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. White boys can't be the problem..."

"Oh come on, Adolin, calm down..."

"Oh, shut up Saunders. You don't get it."

"...I mean, it's shit, what happened to you, but it's unprofessional to throw a tantrum."

"That kid walked into that school intending to shoot those students. I remember that clearly enough. And they're—" Adolin sighed in frustration. "Why did I bother thinking it could be different?"

"Not much you can do about it from here. Just...get better, okay? And try not to stress too much."

"...right. I'll get on it," Adolin muttered back cynically, sarcasm thick in his tone.

One of the men sighed. "Whatever you want, Kholin. See ya 'round."

Once the two had left, Kaladin turned back, moving to check the machines.

"I can't fuckin' believe it. How could they do this?"

Sighing, Kaladin sat down on the edge of the bed. The blond seemed genuinely distraught, so in response, Kaladin dropped all pretence of play and teasing. "You okay, Adolin?"

"Oh, just terrific. Great."

"...right."

He scoffed. "You know what happened?"

"...when you," he gestured to the missing leg, "you know?"

"Yeah. Then."

"I know the gist of it."

"So you know it was a white kid?"

Kaladin hesitated, then nodded slowly. It had been the talk of the city recently. The high school that had been attacked had been in a black neighbourhood, and some arrogant, probably rich, white boy had decided to take certain matters—fucking racism, Kaladin decided. No sense buttering it up—into his own hands.

"Yeah, well, that kid, the one who did it? They're pleading self-defence."

Kaladin turned, meeting Adolin's eyes. "They're—what?"

"Yeah. The kid's parents are claiming he was attacked for showing up on the school grounds—you know, for being fucking white."

"So this...what, becomes the victims' fault?"

"...basically, yeah."

"Fuck," Kaladin muttered. "I see why you're pissed off. How can they even get away with that plea?"

"Because he never actually shot any of the students, they can get away with arguing that he never went intending to cause harm. It'll lessen the charge to just carrying a concealed weapon and self-defence, rather than attempted manslaughter."

"And shooting a cop?"

"We can make a case out of that, and I plan to try. But the court will probably sympathise with the defendant."

Of course. That went without saying. Kaladin shook his head. "If you need someone to testify about your injuries..."

Adolin looked surprised for a moment, then he smiled. "...thanks. I might take you up on that."

"What about the school? What's it saying?"

"Quiet, so far. The department probably isn't going to side with me, so they might want to stay out of it..."

"Wait, the school department?"

"No—precinct."

"...your own coworkers aren't on your side?"

"They don't see it that way," Adolin muttered. "The kid's parents and friends will say he was in danger, and the precinct might just eat it up."

"Right. Because a white kid can't ever be to blame."

Adolin scoffed. "Pretty much."

"I bet if you'd been a white cop..."

Adolin sighed. "Yeah. The worst part is...I'm not even surprised. This shit happens all the time, and the outcome is always the same."

Reaching over, Kaladin squeezed his calf. "You're not even upset about yourself, are you?" he asked quietly.

"No. He could have killed kids, Kaladin..."

For a cop...Adolin was a damn good person. It was a begrudging admittance, but an admittance nevertheless. "But you stopped him. It's more than can be said for some cops..." He muttered the last part, looking at the floor.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's go somewhere. No sense sitting around moping."

"...no," Adolin shook his head, "you aren't getting off that easily. What did that mean?"

"...it's nothing, Adolin. Seriously. Drop. It."

"No. You have a history with cops, don't you?" the blond demanded, his eyes boring into Kaladin's own.

Kaladin met the gaze, but dropped first, sighing as he looked away. "Fine. Yes, I do. Happy?"

"...you can talk to me about it. It's not like I don't have some idea what you're going through."

"Yeah? They killed my brother," he said, grunting softly. Saying that out loud always hurt.

"...shit, Kal." Adolin reached out, laying a comforting hand on his thigh. "That..."

"It's utter bullshit, is what it is," he growled, clenching one fist tensely. "Tien hadn't done anything. He was probably terrified and they just...!"

"Kal..."

"He was shopping. Walking home, and some cops had gotten a call that there was an armed black man walking around. They didn't even stop to ask questions, they just shot him. He was fifteen," Kaladin hated how his voice cracked near the end.

"We tried to get the cop that did it prosecuted, but his friends all rallied behind him and they got off by claiming the cop was afraid for his life. Utter bullshit is what it is, but..."

Adolin sighed. "Yeah, I...I get it. And I'm sorry, Kaladin..."

Kaladin scoffed, uncomfortable with the sympathy...the emotion. "Forget it. I shouldn't have even told you."

"...Kaladin."

"Let's go do something. Anything."

"Sure," Adolin agreed, sounding only a little reluctant. Not needing any further prompting, Kaladin grabbed his wheelchair.

He hated sentiment.

"...you're the physical therapist?"

"Yup."

Adolin smiled. He was actually happy about that. He was also happy to be able to start moving around more. Kaladin had helped him with simple stretches the past few days, but now he would really work at strengthening his muscles to get ready for a prosthetic.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I enjoyed watching you squirm."

"...I wasn't squirming."

"Semantics."

Adolin reached up, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Right."

Kaladin chuckled, the sound drawing more of a smile to Adolin's lips. "Okay, so maybe you weren't. I just wanted to surprise you."

"Effectively surprised," he said, smile softening. Kaladin returned it. Damn, that man was attractive...

"...right. Okay. So let's get started. It'll take a couple weeks, but we should be able to get you fitted with a prosthetic if all goes smoothly."

That sounded amazing; to be able to move himself around again... After barely a week in bed, he was already growing restless. He just wanted to get up and walk again.

"Okay, so we've checked your range of motion thoroughly. You have excellent mobility still, and you've proven more than capable of changing your positioning and of getting in and out of a wheelchair."

"It's this amazing physique of mine," Adolin said, flexing one arm. He tried and failed not to grin when Kaladin scoffed. He didn't miss the way the nurse subtly checked him out, though.

"Right, that's one part. Next, we're going to see how you handle being upright." Adolin watched as he grabbed a set of forearm crutches, setting them on the bed. "That amazing physique of yours will help; you should be able to support your own weight no problem."

"Of course," he flexed again, grinning. Kaladin rolled his eyes.

"The biggest thing to note is that your centre of gravity is going to be off. Simply put—you weigh less, and it's going to unbalance you."

Adolin nodded. Despite his joking, he was paying attention.

"So let's take this slow. Give me your hand."

Adolin did so, clutching tightly as he swung his leg over the side of the bed. Meeting Kaladin's eyes, he took a deep breath...and slid forward.

His remaining leg, kept strong and limber thanks to Kaladin's simple exercises, caught him...until he pitched forward. The nurse caught him effortlessly, supporting his weight while Adolin reoriented himself.

...he may not have rushed to do so.

Straightening, he found his leg shaking slightly. This was harder than he had expected. His knee felt strained, and his ankle wobbled slightly.

"Okay, so we need to work on those joints more," Kaladin concluded. "That probably means we'll need to work on the residual limb's musculature too. I'll get you a list of strengthening exercises you can work on on your own."

"What, won't stick around to help?"

"Not when you go home. If you keep recovering this fast, you'll be home in a few days."

Adolin paused. That made sense, but he hadn't really expected it to come up so quickly.

"Try not to miss me too much."

Adolin scoffed, smirking. "It'll be difficult." And good gosh, were they flirting?

"You can do your exercises to fill the void."

"It might not be enough."

Kaladin smirked at him. "Keep your flattery to yourself, Kholin," a set of forearm crutches were shoved towards him, "and start practicing hobbling around like a three-legged horse."

"...that's a bit...rude."

"One-legged ape, then."

Taking the crutch, he whacked Kaladin lightly on the leg.

"Can't deny it, pretty boy."

"Pretty...? What happened to rich boy?"

Kaladin quirked a brow at him, but otherwise refrained from responding. Adolin swallowed. They were definitely flirting, weren't they? The look on Kaladin's face certainly seemed to imply that he was doing so, and Adolin knew he sure as heck was.

"Come on, enough wasting time. We have a lot of work to do."

At least it was the enjoyable kind...